The College Years
by thebluecray0n
Summary: AU Captain Swan/ College student Killian Jones finds out an amusing secret about his girlfriend Emma. It involves something called fanfiction? A series of drabbles featuring our favorite idiots in college
1. Fanfiction Secrets

_Summary: AU College student Killian Jones finds out an amusing secret about his girlfriend Emma. It involves something called fanfiction?_

* * *

"Swan! Swan, open this door!" Killian's voice boomed.

Emma sighed, her fingers ceasing their movements. She had told him she was _busy_. She slammed the laptop shut in frustration, stalking towards the door. Honestly, it was bad enough her roommate Snow was usually _always _around- she was kind of clingy- and this was probably the one afternoon she would have alone in her room and her stupid boyfriend couldn't leave her alone for a few hours.

She secretly loved him, though.

"What, Jones?" Emma said harshly, angling herself between the door and her room. There was no way he was getting inside. If he got inside he'd never leave. He'd eat her pretzels, incessantly play with her hair, kiss her neck while she swatted him away, and then get his (adorable) scent all over her bed (not that she minded). But she couldn't afford any distractions right now.

Killian smiled brightly at her. Normally it would have made her crack, but not today. She was determined.

"Oh, no, no, no." Emma said sternly, telling herself she meant it. There were several students in the hallway, glancing at them in curiosity. Killian had been out in the hall for at least ten minutes, causing a ruckus the whole time trying to barge his way in. He seemed to have attracted an audience.

"I said _no_," Emma kept going, tightening her grip on the door.

Killian pouted, "I haven't seen you in forever."

"We had breakfast together," she said pointedly.

"That was-" he paused, counting on his fingers. "Six and a half hours ago! It's practically forever."

"That is the complete opposite of forever!" Emma shouted, though she was smiling. It was impossible with him. She quickly remembered she was supposed to be firm and squeezed her lips together to contain the smile.

They had been together for seven months and most of their conversations went like this. Sometimes she argued with him when he carried all of her books, plus his, but Killian would simply roll his eyes at her and whistle, while she launched into a long speech about feminism and her own personal strength. When she was done, he'd glance over at her and say, "Just let me do something nice for you, love,"

That always shut her up.

Because he said it so plainly. So honestly.

But now was not the time to fall for any of his moves, and he had a lot of them. He had the whole school in love with practically. She had always thought that college would was supposed to be different, that there was no popular boy that all the girls wanted to be with. But Killian Jones was that man. And somehow they had ended up in the same Classic Fairy Tales Reconsidered class at the start of the fall semester. Emma had taken the class to get her advanced English credit, while Killian seemed to have taken the class because he wanted to.

He was one of the only guys in the class.

He didn't care.

He had slid into the seat next to Emma three minutes before class was due to start, and when it was announced they needed a reading partner, he turned to her before their professor had finished speaking. She had shrugged. And then seven months later there they were.

"Just let me in," Killian laughed, reaching out and touching her cheek softly.

She should have pulled away. Because the moment he touched her she was putty in his stupid hands. It was like when they studying for their first exam, a month into the semester. They were in the library and Killian had been flirting with her nonstop for weeks. Emma had tried to play it cool, act like she was mildly interested. Some of the buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and she could see a sliver of his chest, dark hair that seemed more inviting than it should have. When he'd casually leaned over and brushed some of her hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear, she had launched herself at him.

That was how they had gotten banned from the library.

So now they either had to study outside or in one of their rooms. Killian always pushed for the room option.

They didn't study much.

And there he was now, after she explicitly told him she needed to be _alone_ all afternoon so she could _write_ something _important_. And his hand was warm. It was soft. You'd think after seven months the spell would have worn off, but for Emma it seemed to get stronger every day. Every hour, actually.

He was still wearing the same clothes he'd been in that morning over breakfast, except now he had a school sweatshirt. She sighed, leaning into his hand and Killian smirked victoriously.

Relenting, she leaned back, pushing the door open. Killian whooped (adorably. Honestly he sounded like a toddler) and floated into the room. He was kicking his shoes off in seconds, his schoolbag on the floor. In seconds he was lying face down on her bed, his nose smelling her pillow.

"Smells like you," he said, smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes at his antics. He wanted a reaction from her. He _always _wanted a reaction from her. It was like he was in middle school, not his second year of college, and wanted to rile her up. "It smells like _you_," she told him, going back to the desk.

The dorm room was so small that when she sat at her desk and Killian occupied her bed, there was only two feet between them. He looked at her and smiled, "It smells like us."

She crinkled her nose, pulling her legs up to her chest as she opened the laptop. "Gross?"

"Of course not," chided Killian, indignantly. As if to prove his point, he buried his head in the pillow, making Emma shake her head. How had she gotten stuck with this idiot?

Not that it bothered her in the slightest. She went back to typing, trying her best to tune him out. Opening up her iTunes, she played a song, hoping it would get her back into her story. She was tired of getting frantic messages from strangers shouting at her in caps lock: HURRY UP AND UPDATE! WRITE FASTER! I'M GOING TO STOP READING! I NEED MORE!

"Why don't you play Pearl Jam?" suggest Killian, unhelpfully.

"Because they suck," she said, not raising her eyes.

Killian gasped dramatically. You'd think she'd just broken up with him. "Take it back,"

"You sound like a five year old."

"Swan, you know that isn't true! You like 'Better Man.'"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't leave me alone until Iliked one song. All the rest are crap." She typed methodically, the words appearing on the screen in front of her. This part of writing always thrilled her. Creating something out of nothing, making it appear.

"I think we have irreconcilable differences, Swan."

She bit her lip to keep from grinning. "Really, Jones?"

"It pains me to say this, Emma,"

"Oooh, her first name basis now?" She giggled, hearing her bed creak. Suddenly he was right behind her, which only took one step since the dorm room was the epitome of tiny. He easily slid himself into the chair behind her, wrapping his arms tight around her waist.

Everywhere he touched her blazed to life as he pulled her back flush against him. His chin was on her shoulder, his stubble tickling her. And then his lips were on her neck, soft and wet and amazing.

"I'm trying to write, mister," she said, seeing their reflection in the screen. She kept typing. She couldn't stop now. She'd already written two thousand words and knew exactly where this chapter was going.

"You're _always_ trying to write," Killian said into her ear. Then he stopped and Emma realized what was about to happen. She tried to close the laptop, but Killian was too fast. She squeezed her eyes shut.

He was reading it.

She felt her face turning red. She never blushed. She hated it. She hated the mere _word_. Blush, what a stupid, ugly word. A vulnerable word.

"Are you... is that... Jamie Lannister? He's from Game of Thrones." Killian asked her, gently grasping her hips. She stayed silent, wishing she could disappear. "Hey," he said softly, but she could hear the amusement in his voice. He shook her hips. "Emma?"

_And_ he was calling her Emma? It was like he was trying to kill her.

"Emma" always felt too intimate. Too close. And she never really minded, but to use it _now_ when he was uncovering another part of her freaked her out.

"He's from A Song of Ice and Fire," Emma huffed. "Some of us read."

"I read plenty," Killian said, his eyes staring at the screen. They were moving rapidly, reading everything. "Is he with Brienne? Wait... is this... what's that word... fanfiction?"

Emma muttered something.

Killian was smiling brightly now and he swiveled her hips in his excitement. "Emma, I can't hear you, love."

"Emma" AND "love" in the same sentence? He was trying to do her in.

"Yes," she said, only slightly louder.

"No way! _This _is what you're always writing? Are there dirty scenes-" He reached for the mousepad, but Emma quickly swatted his hand away.

"Stop it!"

"There are!" Killian grinned triumphantly. "I want to see!" But he didn't lunge for the mouse again, he just held her tighter. "This is kinda hot."

"Oh my God, shut up," Emma moaned, mortified. Her face was still flaming red, she could feel the heat. She was surprised there wasn't smoke rising from her.

Killian didn't seem to get that he should stop smiling. "Will you let me read it?"

"No!" she cried, wishing he would stop holding her.

(She really wasn't wishing that.)

"Why not?" he pouted, one hand letting go of her waist. It cupped her chin, turning her to face him. His eyes were so blue, they pulled her in. She could see herself reflected in them. He held on tightly, keeping her attention on him. "Don't you love me, Swan?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I do, you big moron."

He was still smiling. "So I want to read it."

"Tough luck,"

"Emma," Killian said, like he was teaching her an important lesson. "When you love someone, you must put their needs above yours."

She laughed loudly. "I don't think so, buddy."

He pouted, "Why not? I'm sure it's amazing. And kinky. But amazing."

She blushed again. He smirked, kissing her cheek sloppily. She pulled away playfully, laughing as he squeezed her again.

There was no way that he was going to let this go until he read it, she knew. He would concoct schemes, try to steal her laptop, try to bribe her all until he was able to read what she had written. He might even try to goad Snow into helping him on his crazy mission.

Regina, Snow's best friend, would probably help him. She hated Emma.

"Emma, my beautiful, sexy, nerd girlfriend-"

"Save it. Flattery will get you no where, Jones." Emma grinned.

Killian smirked. "I have other ways."

The smirk scared her and before she could contest, he was tickling her. She squirmed. She laughed. She shrieked. In seconds he was lifting her off the chair and they were falling onto her bed. Killian had a leg on either side of her as he assaulted her stomach, a smile as bright as the moon on his face.

He would read that damn story, if it was the last thing he did.


	2. The Pearl Jam Concert

_Summary: Killian drags Emma to a Pearl Jam concert for a double date with Snow and David._

* * *

Killian was bouncing like a little kid being potty trained. "Emma, we need to go." He said for the billionth time. He was standing right by the door, instead of waiting patiently on her bed. Emma rolled her eyes, standing in front of the mirror and holding up two different earrings.

She turned to him. "Which ones?" She didn't care, but watching him sweat was amusing.

Killian groaned. "I really don't care. You're beautiful, you're always beautiful, can we please _just go_?"

Emma turned back around. "I can see you smirking in the mirror, Swan. You're not that slick." She stifled a laugh, settling on the diamonds she usually wore. As she reached for her coat, Killian pulled open the door.

"Quit stalling," he said, looking at her critically. "I can see right through you, lass."

Emma rolled her eyes, but walked through the open door. She couldn't believe she was actually going to a Pearl Jam concert. Scratch that, she couldn't believe Pearl Jam was making new music, let alone touring! And of course Killian had known as soon as the tour dates were announced. He skipped his ten o'clock History of Piracy class (and that was on the seafaring kind, not illegal downloading. Emma had looked at him dubiously when he told her that was an actual class he was taking and he'd said, "I think I would have made a good pirate, don't you?" "Go to sleep, Killian, you're drunk." "You just proved my point, love.") just so he could sit in front of the computer and buy tickets the moment they were released.

If you could write Pearl Jam fanfiction, Killian Jones would be writing it. A part of Emma hoped he would be unsuccessful, only so she wouldn't have to get dragged along. But when _her_ ten o'clock Sociology of Prison class ended, Killian was sitting in the hall waiting for her, a smile that rivaled his usual one bright across his face.

That's how she knew she wasn't get out of the concert.

Out in the hallway of her dorm, Killian wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Come on," he said, looking at her feet. "We're going to be late."

"We're not going to be late," said Emma, with a roll of her eyes. "It's five thirty, the show starts at eight. It's a half hour train ride into Boston. And if anything were to happen, like our train magically stalls, there's still an opening act."

Killian stopped her. "We can't miss a single moment of it. Not even the opening act." He had looked her in the eyes and said it like she suggested they commit a mortal sin. "I'm like a sponge, I need to soak everything up."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You're wasting time."

As they made their way down the hall, Emma snorted. "Sponge, my ass, Jones."

* * *

They got to Boston at six fifteen. Emma led her boyfriend out of the station, their hands firmly grasped together. "Do you see Snow?" she asked, looking around. Her roommate was interning at an accounting firm in the city. Snow was on the five year teaching tract, on her way to a Masters in Education. The ultimate goal was to be a high school math teacher, but she couldn't be a teaching assistant until her final year, so for now she focused on the math part of the dream.

And Snow was a huge Pearl Jam fan. But at least Snow respected Emma's eardrums by using headphones. Killian had no such qualms about singing it loudly (and off key), downloading all their songs onto her iPod, and playing them whenever she was in his room.

Emma tried to avoid his room.

But she had no self control.

At least she wouldn't be alone tonight. David, Snow's boyfriend-since they were ten-, didn't like Pearl Jam, either. He would be around to keep her sane. Since David was from Boston and had no classes on Fridays, he had gone home Thursday night and was meeting Snow after her internship. When the concert ended, they were going to his parents house for the weekend. Some big spring family barbecue gathering.

"I see David's stupid pom-pom hat." Killian said.

Emma snorted, following the direction Killian was looking. There it was. It was April, and yet David insisted he needed that appalling hat to 'retain body heat.' Sometimes David was a real pansy. From across the street the hat was still an obnoxious bright red with a hideous grey fluff ball on top.

"We should get him a clown nose." Emma laughed, crossing the middle of the street.

Killian grinned. "His birthday is next month."

"There you guys are!" Snow suddenly cried, meeting them halfway. Emma smiled, embraced her, and then hugged David. Killian and David did an intricate series of handshakes and then patted each other on the back.

"Boys," Snow said, shaking her head. She looped her arm through Emma's and the two of them led the way to the restaurant they were getting dinner before the show at. "Thanks for coming, I know you don't like them,"

Emma rolled her eyes. "With him? There was no way I was getting out of it."

"You're jumping for joy on the inside, love," Killian said from behind her.

"I'd rather be in Neverland," Emma muttered bitterly.

Killian and David spent the whole walk talking about the Red Soxs first game of the season. They sounded like little boys trading baseball cards. Emma heard slightly familiar names, RBI (she still didn't know what it stood for) statistics from past seasons, and lamentations that their star pitcher was out on the disabled list. Meanwhile, Snow was hoping Cameron would throw her a drumstick at the end of the show. The restaurant was just a few blocks from the train station and they reached it in no time.

But once they got to the table, Killian and Snow were trading favorite lyrics, naming songs they hoped would get played- "I hope they play more of their old stuff"- and wondering what the stage would look like, if there would be giant screens with effects.

"I'm still alive," Killian rasped out, in between courses. Emma faintly remembered that being a lyric in one of their songs and rolled her eyes. He did sound sexy when he did that, though.

She took a sip of her water.

David was looking at Snow fondly. It was like she was the sun, casting her radiant glow over the whole room. Her eyes were lit up and she was smiling, sitting forward in her seat, trading Pearl Jam trivia with Killian. Emma pinched her boyfriend under the table, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked at her, winked, and went back to fangirling with Snow.

* * *

The opening act was a Canadian folk group no one had heard of. It didn't stop the four of them from dancing like they were alone in their rooms with no onlookers. Killian had tried to buy beer, but Emma gave him an "are you serious?" look.

"What?" He'd asked.

"You're going to be going crazy in there. You'll spill it everywhere. On me, probably." Emma had told him, and she had been right. Killian's forehead was already beading with sweat and the group had only played four songs.

Before the show started they had gone to the merch table. Emma hadn't wanted anything, since she didn't care for the band, but Killian was incessant. He picked out matching tour shirts for both of them. While Snow was still deciding what to get, he had dragged her off to a corner and put his on. When he handed her hers, Emma looked at it distastefully.

Killian rolled his eyes and then took matters into his own hands. "Hey!" Emma cried, as he put it over her head. She raised her arms to pull it off, but only succeeded in helping him get in on her. Killian smiled at her, "We're the hottest couple here."

"We look like those idiot couples who go on vacation together and wear the same outfits."

Despite this, Emma hadn't taken the shirt off. She was secretly swooning over him.

Not that she would ever tell him that.

"Don't we look _daaaaarling_?" Emma had joked when they rejoined Snow and David.

The smell of pot was strong. Emma had a feeling Killian was inhaling too much, because soon enough he had grabbed her and was spinning her around, laughing manically. She ended up careening into Snow, who may have been slightly out of it, since she took Emma's hands and they did a horrible rendition of a cha-cha.

When it was finally time for Pearl Jam to play, Emma wondered how Killian and Snow were still standing. She exchanged looks with David, who seemed to feel the same way she did. The crowd erupted in cheers as the band made their entrance and a loud collision of instruments played the opening notes.

Killian screamed.

Snow jumped up and down, clapping wildly.

Emma watched as her boyfriend turned into a new person. He was head banging and singing, sometimes he'd jump up and down. He was having the time of his life. It was impossible _not_ to smile. David was the only other person who understood what she was feeling. Even though he hated Pearl Jam, he was smiling too and bobbing his head as Snow went mad.

Somehow Snow ended up on David's shoulders at some point. Emma looked up at her friend, who was yelling, "CAMERON, I LOVE YOU!"

And then she ended up in Killian's arms. He was slick with sweat, but it didn't bother her. He sang into her ear, kissed her whenever he felt like it (which was often, mind you), and sometimes took her hands in his and made her clap.

Emma wasn't sure how, but it ended up being a wonderful night.

And Snow caught a drumstick.


	3. The Ice Cream Party

_Summary: Emma and Killian go to a midnight ice cream party and end up talking baby names._

* * *

"Woooo!" Killian cried, a tie wrapped around his forehead and a bowl of ice creamed slathered in chocolate syrup and bananas in his hand.

Emma rolled her eyes, watching him from across the dining hall. But it was impossible to contain her smile.

"Fools," Regina, Snow's uptight best friend, huffed. Regina clearly hadn't gotten the message that it was a pajama party, because she was wearing a silk shirt buttoned to the top with a stiff pencil skirt. She turned to Emma and said matter-of-factly, "Your boyfriend is acting like a drunk monkey."

"That's because he _is_ a drunk monkey," Emma snorted, determined not to let Regina ruin her night. She had begged Snow not to drag her friend along, but Snow had been relentless. Snow had claimed that Regina needed to around friends- "You mean friend," Emma had muttered, since Regina only had one friend and it was Snow- since she had just gone through a nasty break-up from Daniel.

And so there the three of them were, Emma and Snow comfortably curled up on bean bag chairs, while Regina stood stiff and awkward against the wall.

Emma looked back at Killian, who was wearing blue pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt that clung to him in ways that it shouldn't have. His hair stood up in random places, and most of it was her doing since they had spent a few hours alone in his room before coming down to the party. Now he was dancing over to her on his tiptoes, his ice cream still up in the air.

"Hello ladies," he said, looking at Snow and Regina. Then he turned to Emma and purred, "and special lady,"

Regina rolled her eyes in disgust.

Emma moved over a smidgen and Killian fell into the bean bag with her. She stole a piece of banana as Killian raved about the all night ice cream buffet. "Whoever's idea that was deserves to be class president."

"You don't even know who our class president is," Snow said with a laugh.

Killian was taken aback by this. He thought for a moment and said, "You're right." He turned to Emma, "Love, who is our class president?"

Emma grinned, sticking her finger in his bowl of rapidly melting ice cream. She plopped some on his nose and said, "I don't know. Someone named Neal? I think I met him once. He has a real stick up his ass."

Killian had lost interest in who was class president. He was staring, cross eyed, at his nose. "You are going to lick that off, right?"

Regina looked like she was about to sick. "I'm leaving."

Emma glanced at her and smiled. Then she turned back to Killian and kissed his nose.

"Disgusting," Regina muttered, stepping over them, her obnoxious stilettos clanging as she went.

Snow looked at Emma. "Did you have to do that?"

"What?" Emma asked, innocently, snuggled in Killian's arms. "I didn't do anything. I'm not allowed to be affectionate with my boyfriend?"

"I'm gonna go find David." She got up, then looked at Emma and Killian critically and cautioned, "Don't make a baby while I'm gone."

Emma rolled her eyes, but Killian suddenly seemed taken with the idea. He looked at Emma, "You know, I could do with a little Killian. Or a baby Emma. Or we can combine our names and have a baby..." he trailed off, his eyebrows scrunching up adorably as he tried to figure out what their names squished together would sound like, "Emillian... Kemma! A baby Kemma. That's a sexy name."

Emma tried to kiss him in an effort to shut him up, but Killian was on a roll. He moved, and her lips went straight into his chin. "Baby Kemma Jones. Or Kemma Swan, if you're into that. But you have to admit it, Kemma Jones sounds cooler. Kemma Swan sounds too much like you."

"Stop talking about babies and kiss me, dammit."

"Wait a second, Swan," Killian grinned, evading her lips again. "We'd make some gorgeous kids."

"You're not going to make one by talking about it," Emma said, this time tangling her hand in his soft hand and pulling him to her.

* * *

"Is that... Regina?" Emma asked, staring at someone in the middle of the dance floor. The dance floor was actually just the middle of the dining hall that had suddenly become a cluster of people dancing.

It couldn't be Regina, Emma thought, staring at the woman who had the top buttons of her blouse unbuttoned and was somehow wearing someone's pajama pants. They were huge and _plaid_ and Regina was vehemently opposed to plaid. Emma had known because one day she had worn a plaid button up and some jeans when she and Snow (who had brought Regina) went apple picking and was forced to endure a twenty minute tirade on the faults of plaid. And these pajama pants were obviously male.

"Whose pants is she wearing?" David asked.

"Must be her partner's," Killian smirked and Emma turned her attention to who Regina was dancing with.

He was tall, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. Again something Regina was opposed to. She used to say she needed a man who was put together and _matuuuure_, distinguished. But this man was the very definition of unkempt, dancing in his boxers, holding a beer bottle in one hand.

"Oh," Snow said, "That's Robin. He's the model in my Life Drawing class."

David nearly spit out his drink.

Emma and Killian exchanged smirks. "I can't wait to tease her about this tomorrow."

"You do that," Killian cautioned his girlfriend, "She'll hate you even more."

Emma wasn't fazed by this. "Bring it on."

It was nearly two now and David whispered something to Snow, who then told Emma something about going to Denny's for pancakes. They left, arm in arm, in matching pajamas, no less.

Killian, too, was ready to make his exit. He nibbled on Emma's ear, his arms encircling her waist. "What do you say we move this party to my room?" he whispered. Killian had a single.

But Emma couldn't stop looking at Regina, who was now drinking from Robin's bottle. She needed to gather up all ammunition. "But," she pouted, "looook,"

Killian's laugh was warm on her neck, "Don't you want a little Kemma?"

"We are not naming our kid Kemma."

"Fine. How about Emillian."

"Think again, Jones." She turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Killian smiled and began to move slowly with her, in stark contrast to the pounding pop song vibrating around them.

"How about if we combine our _last_ names? I bet no one's done that."

"Yeah, for good reason."

But Killian was already thinking about it. "Jwan! Sones! Think of the possibilities."

Emma kissed his cheek. "Not today,"

"If Snow and David have a kid, their's would be Savid. Ours are so much better."

"Killian-"

"Say ours are better."

"Ours are better."


	4. Killian's Best Day

_Summary: Killian Jones finally asks out Emma Swan, who happens to be wearing bunny slippers._

* * *

Killian Jones had a problem.

It had taken him an entire month to notice it, but he had a very big problem. He'd first noticed it in late October. Emma Swan, the girl of his dreams (although she didn't know it yet), was seemingly disappearing into thin air. Ever since they had teamed up for their fairy tale Lit class, it was hard to find one without the other. But as October rolled to a close, he'd barely had time to comment on it as the November madness kicked in.

It was full of professors assigning papers as the post-midterm semester experience trekked on. There were exams that needed to be studied for, late nights working at the smoothie bar in the cafeteria. Admittedly, Killian hated his job. But it was a work-study position and he couldn't be picky. His shift was from ten in the evening until four and so he usually had to deal with the hungover idiots stumbling into the place and craving smoothies. Besides that and all his reading for class, it was understandable how Emma Swan disappearing had slipped his mind once the cold air ravaged campus.

But now it was the week leading up to Thanksgiving and so he had handed all his papers in and was free until it was time to leave campus and go back home. Because there was just a few days off for the holiday, he wouldn't be going back hom to Ireland. Instead he was flying out to California to visit some family he rarely saw. He'd be going home over the longer winter break.

Emma's breathtaking smile flashed in his mind, making his heart clench. He had only seen her in class and if she wasn't listening to their professor, she was typing furiously on her laptop. She always smiled at him when she walked in and her melodic voice always chimed, "Bye, Killian," at the close of class.

And then she'd be gone and he would mope about it, dragging himself back to his dorm or the library to get to work. And soon enough he wouldn't be obsessing over her perfect figure, or her dry sense of humor, or the way she licked her lip when she was concentrating on something.

But now it was nearly the holidays. Killian was finally free.

He could fantasize about Emma all he wanted.

In his dorm, he fiddled with his phone, debating what to text her. His roommate Archie was a total nerd, and so he was a neuroscience major and had been spending all his waking hours, and some when he should be asleep, in the labs, working meticulously since the semester started. Killian would have asked Archie—who he affectionally referred to as Cricky since the poor kid was terrified of crickets— for advice, but now he had to go it alone.

Finally he settled for the all encompassing, _Swan, I need you._

He expected an eye roll when she read the message. In September, back when they would go study in the library together, sometimes he would disappear into the rows of shelves and text her meaningless things, just to see her smile and roll her eyes from afar. But sometimes he did it sitting right across from her. She would read the text, look up at him, and toss a highlighter at his face.

He always shut his eyes tightly instead of exerting the physical energy to catch it. Then the highlighter would land in his lap and he had the chance to wiggle his eyebrows and give her his best 'come hither' look.

His phone buzzed, making him look down at his hand. He hadn't let it go since sending the message. The little bubble on the screen already said half the message, and his eyes practically tripped over the words in his haste to read the whole message.

_Jones, you're being melodramatic._

Honestly. Only Emma Swan would use "melodramatic" in a text message.

He fell more in love the woman every second.

_Where are you?_ he typed feverishly, auto correct doing its job right for once and fixing "yoi" to "you."

He literally counted the seconds as they went by. He thought about the way her hair looked when she took the time to curl it. He thought about the way it looked straight, natural and messy in the sexist way.

He wanted to see what her hair looked like in the morning, spread out on her pillow with the sun shining onto it. Or after a night of wild love making. With him, obviously.

The phone buzzed.

_In my room._

He bit his lip. Honestly the way this conversation could go. Shaking his head clear of dirty thoughts, he jumped out of bed, pulling on his coat. _I'm coming over,_ he wrote back, the door swinging shut behind him. He stuffed his phone deep into the recesses of his pocket, so he didn't need to read her protests.

Emma Swan was avoiding him no more. He'd had a clear head for the first time in three weeks and could devote every waking moment to his lady now.

Well, she wasn't _his_ lady yet. But she would be. Because they were perfect for each other, Killian knew.

Emma lived in McMann Hall, which was just a short walk from his own room in Josselyn House. The path was overflowing with fallen leaves, and everywhere he stepped there was a _crunch._ Their campus was orange, like those glossy photos of college campuses in the fall used to entice prospective students and their families.

When he arrived at McMann, he clapped hands with Graham, the security guard. When Emma had first brought him back to her room a week into the semester to do homework, Killian had vowed to get in good with Graham, so getting _in_ to McMann wouldn't ever be a problem.

And it had happened.

Graham shot him a lazy smile, biting deeply into a bear claw. Killian had bought one for Emma once and the sound she made after taking a single bite had practically been orgasmic. Killian had needed to excuse himself.

He climbed into the elevator, taking it up to the fifth floor where his beloved lived. When he stepped out, Emma was standing in the hall.

In her pajamas.

Killian worried he had died in the elevator and just stepped onto heaven. He looked down, expecting to see clouds, since he could hear the angel choir. When he looked behind him, he still saw the elevator. So he looked back to Emma, taking her all in.

Her hair was in that stage of half curly, half straight. He loved that stage.

She had on a black tank top and Thing One and Thing Two pajama pants, topped off with bunny slippers. Killian was glad no one else was in the hallway, because Emma Swan looked _amazing_ in a completely casual, intimate way.

"Jones," she grinned, crossing her arms.

_Sweet mercy,_ Killian thought, watching her lean against the door to her room. It had nothing to do with that fact the motion suddenly caused more cleavage.

"Swan," he drawled, immensely proud of himself for keeping it together.

"I'm writing," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I can't come out and play today,"

Killian belatedly remembering her saying something about a NaNo-who-its that involved writing thousands upon thousands of words in a month. "Then I'll come _in_ and be helpful," he sauntered over, putting his hand against the door, near her head.

He wasn't sure how he was still forming full sentences. In fact, he still wasn't sure how he had walked into Classic Fairy Tales Reconsidered and asked her to be his partner. Because she had blown him away the moment he'd clapped eyes on her.

Emma tilted her head to look at him, and Lord help him, Killian felt his legs buckle. He recovered, smirking, wondering what she would do if he closed the small divide that separated them.

"You're never helpful," she said, her hand splaying across his chest like she was going to push him away.

But she didn't.

Killian stared at her hand. He realized she could hear his heart hammering wildly. He flicked his eyes up to her, taking a moment to smile at the bunny slippers again. Honestly, this woman was somehow beautiful and sensual all at once. She was sexy and innocent. Fire and ice.

He loved her.

He loved every inch of her.

He loved everything she said.

Everything she didn't say.

Because Emma Swan didn't always say a lot.

He loved the way her eyes sometimes said everything she couldn't. And so when he looked at her now and saw the way she was looking at him, he knew she wouldn't have slapped him if he leaned down and kissed her (his nightmares usually involved her slapping him in rejection). But instead he didn't. He reached for the doorknob, both of them stumbling into the room.

"Tell me about your novel," he said, falling into her bed like it was his own.

Someday, he vowed, it would be.

Except not her bed in her college dorm. That would be weird. That bed was staying behind once they graduated. Or moved off campus. In an apartment. Together.

Emma slid her feet across the floor, plucking her laptop out of his lap. She settled against the wall, crossed her legs, and situated the laptop on her lap. Killian looked at the inanimate object with jealously. Not only did it have the privilege to be in be the goddess' lap, but it was what Emma Swan was spending all her time with.

"I've nearly hit fifty thousand words," she said, typing melodically. "But the story is no where near done."

"Really?" Killian asked, intrigued. He wasn't a writer, so the idea of when a story was done was a foreign concept. "How do you know?"

"Because I already plotted the whole thing out," she said.

Killian raised his eyebrows. "You wrote everything out before you started writing the story?" He sat up slowly, sliding closer to her.

"Yes," Emma said.

He dropped his head onto her shoulder, staring at the screen. "So what happens to… Margaret?" he picked the first name he read from the conversation she was typing.

"She dies," responded Emma blandly.

"What?" Killian jumped up, "You can't do that!"

She looked at him dubiously, the hints of a smile playing on her lips. "And why not?"

"Because, because," he sputtered, looking around the room like it would provide an obvious answer. But it didn't. There were pictures of Emma's roommate Snow. Snow with her boyfriend David—who Killian had yet to meet (David, not Snow). Snow and her childhood bestie named Ruby who went to school somewhere up north, near the Arctic. She wanted to photograph wolves. The only reason Killian knew something as trivial as that about a person he didn't even know who wasn't directly related to Emma (because knowing everything about Emma Swan had been his mission since the end of August when she crashed into his life and ruined it) was because Emma usually forwarded him the emails Snow would forward her from Ruby with her latest wolf picture.

The fact that Emma Swan forwarded him pictures of wolves made his heart soar.

"Because I feel connected to her!" Killian finally said, "She's the first piece I get of your mystery novel and you're KILLING HER?"

Emma rolled her eyes. She gently touched his hand, making him stop everything and look at where their hands met. It was electric. It was fire and ice. He wished she never let go. "That's writing. Now I thought you said you were going to be helpful."

"Helpful," Killian latched onto the word. "Yes, yes. That's me, Killian Helpful Jones. That's not actually my name. It would be mad if it was, right? What kind of bleeding name is that? It's actually Killian Arthur Jones, which isn't much better, but that one actually is my name."

"Arthur?" Emma smiled, still touching his hand.

He nodded.

"Cute," she grinned, withdrawing her hand.

Killian didn't know if he should be miserable that she'd stopped touching him or jumping for joy she'd just said 'cute' in relation to him. The woman was maddening.

"Swan," Killian declared, after an indeterminable amount of time had passed that had been spent with Emma typing (and sometimes pausing to lick her lip in concentration and drive Killian bonkers) and Killian smiling to himself over the fact that he was sitting next to Emma Swan in her bunny slippers.

She looked up at him.

"Can I take you out to dinner?" he asked, with much more confidence than he felt.

Emma's mouth dropped. Slightly. Ever so slightly, but he noticed. He looked at her nervously, hoping he could send her a telepathic message to say yes. "I know it's the holidays," he started, when she kept staring at him, "and I'm going to California in a few days, and you're going home with Snow, but I've been trying to find the guts to ask you since our very first Lit class and-"

"Yes," Emma whispered, so softly, he hadn't even realized she'd said it until her hand was on his again. "Took you long enough," she added, grinning.

He cocked his head. "Have you been fantasizing about the day I asked you out, Swan?"

This day just kept getting better and better.

She stretched her legs out, her bunny slippers landing in his lap. "All part of my grand seduction plan, Jones."

"Well," he smirked, "it worked like a charm."

"That's because I'm a genius. And if you wait five hundred more words I'll be all yours."

"For you Swan," he grinned, as she rolled out of bed to finish writing at her desk, "I'd wait an entire novel."

"How do you feel about a six book series?"

"Only six?" he fell back, landing on her pillow. "Piece of cake."

It didn't matter how long he had to wait. Emma Swan had just said yes to a date.

_And _he'd seen her bunny slippers.

Best day ever.


	5. Christmas

_Summary: Emma and Killian celebrate Christmas with Snow, David, and Robin, in a gathering at Regina's apartment._

Sorry this is late. FF was having issues.

* * *

"Killian-" grunted Emma, hefting the beautifully wrapped juicer she had gotten Snow into the backseat of her yellow bug. "Would you hurry up?" She pushed the abomination in far enough so that the door would close, and then slumped against it, taxed from the laborious effort it had been. "Honestly, you're worse than girl," she added, mumbling to herself.

As if he'd heard her, Killian came strutting out of the dormitory, where he'd paused to examine his hair for the millionth time. "Relax, Swan," he grinned easily, coasting past her. "We're not going to be late."

"Where are your presents?" Emma stared at him, slack jawed. There was no way he was about to add his name to _her_ cards and piggy back on her awesome presents. She had specifically saved all her tips from the last two months to secure presents and he was not about to just—

"No worries, Swan," he patted his leather jacket, which was a horrible choice for the biting Boston winter. His scarf didn't look like it was doing much either, if the way it flapped in the wind meant anything. "Got it _all_ figured out."

"You are not stealing my presents." She warned, going towards the driver's side of her car. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Killian fake a look of outrage. _I knew it,_ she shook her head, sliding into the car.

"How you could even think that-"

"Drop it, Jones," She eyed him, starting the engine. They would be leaving in a few days to go their separate ways for the holidays, but Snow had thought it would be a lovely idea to have their own Christmas celebration before they left. Finals were over, which meant all the long nights they'd spent studying and avoiding fun could end. Killian and David had suggested having their party in the dorms, but Snow wanted to invite Regina, who had been seeing Robin since their risque dance during the Ice Cream Midnight Slumber Party. Emma didn't remember much of it—just that Killian had been drunk and then she somehow got drunk and there was lots of touching and then later there was lots of kissing and then they had fallen off Killian's bed and she had a nasty bruise in the morning.

Poor Archie had nearly had a heart attack when he found them the next morning.

Emma said a silent prayer as she drove the Bug down the avenue. Their party had ended up not being hosted in the dorms—which were half empty since lots of students had already gone home, so they would have had the whole place to themselves—because Snow had been adamant they include Regina and Regina did not reside in something as "lowly" and "uncleanly" as a "dormitory." And the only way to include Regina, was if they held the gathering at her apartment.

So now Emma had to drive all the way across town all to please Regina (and Snow). As a small token of revenge, she had refused to drive Snow and David. Killian had gotten a kick out of the way she pouted around the room all night, with her bunny slippers, complaining about the whole thing. _Why did they always bend for Regina? And why was Snow so obsessed with her? _She'd wanted to know, like her boyfriend would have all the answers. He was lounging on his bed, sans a shirt, his maroon plaid pajama pants slung obscenely low. The V of his hips was extremely distracting, but Emma managed to keep up her tirade for a good half hour.

Then Killian had jumped on her, bit her shoulder, and tossed her onto the bed.

Thankfully Archie didn't find them in a compromising situation the next morning.

(Emma had made sure she'd set an alarm clock.)

"But love," Killian was appealing, as they came to a red light. "This is what couples _do._ We _share_ gifts."

"Sharing implies a level of togetherness, a level of equal work. Which would mean you made a Christmas list with me. It would mean you painstakingly considered each of our friends and thought about them and what they would like. It would mean you got David the new addition of Monopoly because you remembered he was voting incessantly for the cat to get added to the game and had flyers made up all around school. You would have thought, 'hey, I'm gonna get Snow a juicer because she's always reading those health magazines and spends half the night on her laptop looking up juicing recipes, but hasn't done it because, oh, yeah, she doesn't have a juicer!' It would mean that you came Christmas shopping with me, that you waited in all those lines, since I have morning classes and couldn't be there when the stores opened. So by the time I got there, the stores were already a mess and crowded with crazy people. Did you do any of that Killian Jones, did you?"

"Not in so many words," he started, smiling faintly. "But if it makes you feel better, I think most couples have this argument."

Instead of shrieking, which she desperately wanted to do, she shot him an angry look, her grip on the steering wheel tightening dangerously. After driving in silence for a few moments, Killian added, "Also, that was really hot."

She flicked his head.

When they arrived at Regina's apartment, Killian grandly carried the juicer for her. She followed him in and after explaining to the front desk who they were there to see, they were allowed upstairs. Once they were in the elevator, he put it down, groaning like it had been very hard.

"Don't think carrying that is going to get your name added to the tag." Emma eyed him, though she had a sinking feeling she was going to break and scribble his name onto it.

Killian wasn't fazed. Instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a Santa hat. He slipped it on just as the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival on the fifteenth floor. "Now I'm ready to party," he grinned, bending over to get the juicer.

Emma smiled wanly at him and then shuffled out of the elevator.

Snow was already waiting in the hallway, as the front desk had already rung up to tell them. "Emma!" She smiled, embracing her like they were returning to campus from break. "You're here!"

"So are you," Emma said tightly, resisting the urge to grab Killian's hand and make a run for it. She could hear peppy Christmas music playing in the background and then Regina yelling, "Robin! Turn that horrible music off! I said _Mozart._"

"Lord help me," Emma muttered, following Snow into the apartment. Killian kissed the back of her shoulder quickly, as his hands were otherwise busy supporting a kitchen appliance.

The amount of decorations in the apartment nearly made Emma choke on the Christmas spirit of it all. There was fake snow on the floor and an overwhelming smell of pine that couldn't all be emanating from the giant tree in the center of the room. There was a Christmas village and a train set and a glass nativity scene with stuffed snowmen on the couches. On the windows there were stick on snow flakes and hanging from the ceiling was a Santa on his sleigh, being pulled by reindeer.

Emma knew for a fact Regina didn't do all of this.

In fact, the first look Emma got at the ice queen was her swatting something out of Robin's hand, who was smiling brightly, like he wasn't looking at the ice queen, but rather at a woman with a heart of gold, who was nice, and helped strangers who were in need, and awed at cute puppies she passed in the street. Regina looked furious, almost like a snow storm followed in her wake.

"I do not do stocking stuffers," she was saying fiercely, "Now you get that cheap scratch off ticket out of my face."

Emma exchanged looks with Killian, who had deposited Snow's juicer under the tree. The tree was practically overflowing with gifts.

Robin simply kissed her nose and whipped out a quarter. "I'll scratch it then. I'll even share my winnings with you, if you're lucky. Play your cards right, baby."

For a moment, Emma thought Regina was going to smile. Then the moment passed and the ice queen stalked off to the oven, where she proceeded to glare angrily at the ham. The pig was lucky it was already dead.

"Killian!" David's voice boomed, and both men did an intricate handshake that made Emma's head hurt. "Glad you made it."

"Me too, mate." Killian smiled, shooting an amused look at Emma. "She almost killed me."

"Bugger off," Emma muttered, deciding to go on an egg nog quest. David always made the best egg nog.

But Killian was suddenly looking at her like she'd agreed to marry him. "Copying the things I say, love? I told you were a couple. Next time say it with the accent, it'll sound better."

She smirked. He smirked.

Her heart flipped over.

She suspected his did, too.

She turned away.

"Oh," Snow whispered, grabbing Emma's arm. "Will you tell me what you got Killian now?"

"Of course not," she smiled, thinking of the small gift bag she'd left under the tree, among the other gifts. "It doesn't matter, he probably didn't even get me anything." Not that she expected anything, she felt weird getting presents. She still felt weird having friends and a boyfriend sometimes. But it was getting easier.

"Of course he did, don't be ridiculous. That boy is in love with you." Snow walked around the kitchen island, reaching for the pitcher of egg nog. "Regina, Emma's here."

Regina barely made a grunt of acknowledgement, gathering some seasonings from her cabinet. Emma didn't mind, she liked it best when they avoided each other. She had gotten Regina something out of courtesy, as the party was at her apartment, and was not looking forward to the awkwardness that would ensue when she was forced to give it to her.

"Anyway," Snow continued, pouring them drinks, "Killian brought his gifts over a few days ago."

"He what?" Emma balked, thankful she hadn't been drinking anything when Snow told her _that_.

"Yeah, said he wanted to help you carry your gifts since all the stuff you got was so big." Snow was rambling on, and Emma had to tilt her head to the side, as she considered that. Snow's juicer was big, and David's game had been a doozy to carry, too. She'd also bought a cookie platter to bring, as it was nice when guests brought things. Regina's present was small, since it was a gift card to Macy's so she could buy more pencil skirts and blouses and silently judge the entire school's fashion choice of pajamas to class. For Robin she'd gotten him a medicine ball, which was no fun to carry. It made sense to get him something he could use during his workout regiment, because if Robin wasn't spending all his time with Regina, or his fraternity, he was at the gym, working out and drinking protein. Which explained why he was always so happy. And then there was her small gift for Killian…

"Five dollars!" Robin shouted, drawing Emma out of her thoughts. "Two fifty each, babe!" _Brave man,_ she thought, watching him wrap his arms around Regina's waist and twirl her around.

"You two are rich!" David laughed, appearing in the kitchen with Killian.

Killian smiled at her, catching her eyes. She smiled back, wishing she had added his names to her gifts.

* * *

"Present time!" Killian shouted, messing up Regina's hair as he passed her. Emma ducked her head to hide her smile as the ice queen looked ready to attack her boyfriend. But thankfully Robin seconded the motion and David was nudging Snow, and soon all of them were gathered on the floor around the tree—except Regina, who sat rigidly on the edge of the sofa.

Robin sat at her feet, resting his head on her knees.

Emma wondered how they worked together.

Killian took it upon himself to be Santa's elf, his Santa hat blinking rapidly. He wasn't the only one wearing a silly Christmas accessory. Snow and David had taken it upon themselves to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters out there. David's had a fat reindeer on it, while Snow's was bright green and littered with bells. Robin had shown up wearing garland around his neck. Emma and Regina were the odd ones out, but Regina more so. Killian had wrangled Emma into a t-shirt with a pint of beer on it that said "Christmas Cheer." It was also his t-shirt that he had brought from Ireland. But Robin hadn't made any progress on the 'Regina + festive' front.

He distributed the gifts, making a big show of how heavy Snow's gift from Emma (re: the juicer) was. Then they opened presents, one at a time, going around in a circle. Snow opened her juicer and squealed happily, leaping across the floor to hug Emma. Then David opened his gift from Robin which happened to be some video game where you chase cars or the cars chased you—Emma wasn't sure of the details. They each took turns, going around the circle one present at a time.

When it was Killian's turn, he searched his pile of presents for the green gift bag that had a tag on it marking it his. In elegant script it said, _Love, Emma, _and Killian stared at it goofily for a second, before taking the tissue paper out.

Emma anxiously twiddled her thumbs.

And then he pulled out a small book, bound in leather and intricately designed. On the front cover it read "Peter Pan" and Killian smiled funnily. He twisted the book in his hands, running his hands over it, flipping through the pages like the story was new to him.

"I know it's your favorite story," she started quickly, her nerves getting the best of her. "And that's where we met, in the fairy tale class and I found this copy of it, and I thought it was really special and-"

The room erupted in cheers (besides Regina, who huffed) as Killian leaned over and kissed her. "I love it," he whispered, one hand behind her head, the other holding the book securely.

"Really?"

"Really."

It was Emma's turn to open a gift, so she found a box that was wrapped decently, albeit with lots of tape and a sticker that marked it as her boyfriend's. She smiled at him, and then opened it.

And inside she found her red leather jacket that had been missing for two weeks, emblazoned with a swan on the back of it. She looked at him in astonishment, finding Killian looking _bashful_ of all things, and thankfully they were given a moment of privacy as Robin tugged Regina onto the floor, taking Snow and David's attention off them, so she could kiss him.

"Thank you," she whispered, touching his cheek happily.

"Merry Christmas, Swan," he smiled, planting another kiss on her lips.

After presents they ate, and after Regina's ham, there was Snow's fruitcake, which was appallingly bad. David tried to maintain it was delightful, but no one had else had such qualms over admitting it was hard as rock. Regina brought out the apple pie she'd made, and Killian carried Emma's cookie tray.

"From Emma," he said, setting it down on the table.

"From both of us," she added, relishing the way he looked at her.

"I'll miss you guys," Snow said, some time later, after she'd had too much pie and a tad too much egg nog. "It was a good semester." she scooted closer to David as he adjusted the volume on "White Christmas."

"We'll see each other in a few weeks," Emma said, though the fact that Killian was going to Ireland and Snow and David were staying in Massachusetts, while she schlepped back to Maine for a month really brought her down. And maybe the fact that Regina would be going home to New York and Robin vacationing with his family in Hawaii also made her a little sad.

"And we can Skype!" Snow giggled, her head dropping onto David's shoulder. She perked up, eyes landing on the screen and said, "Oh, I love this part."

Emma didn't. In fact, she hated "White Christmas."

Killian knew that. It was something else she had moaned about during her half hour tirade. So he played with her hair and read softly to her, his new copy of Peter Pan in his lap. They had were near Regina's fireplace, because of course Regina had a fire place in her apartment, and had steaming mugs of hot cocoa at their sides. Emma smiled to herself, if he had to go for a month, she was happy she'd have this memory to hold on to.

She squeezed closer, tucking her head into the crook of his arm and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was warm and his thermal shirt was soft and inviting. She could have listened to his voice all day. His Irish brogue seemed stronger than usual as he read to her, and she knew it would probably be the strongest she'd ever heard it once he returned from break, after being surrounded by he own people for awhile.

"Stop being annoying and come watch the movie," Regina scolded them from the floor, bundled under a blanket with Robin.

"What she means is, come watch the movie with us. I'll miss you when we have to say goodbye." Robin added.

"That's not what I meant," said Regina petulantly.

So at the end of the chapter, Killian shut and book and Emma reluctantly slid over to the others, surprised to find "White Christmas" wasn't as bad as she'd once thought it was. Especially when Killian randomly kissed her head or Snow ended up snoring softly from all the egg nog she'd had. And even the way Regina seemed to be smiling for an extended period of time made the movie bearable.

She smiled to herself, wishing they would all be coming back together for New Years.


End file.
